So, apparently, the well-thought-out evil genius plan these days is blowing things up. Chuck doesn't know why, because he's nowhere near the evil genius status
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Here, have a mutant, finally recovered from that whole being-worshipped thing over the weekend. He's in a good mood, even if he is walking proof that it is possible to have an impressive case of bed-hair on one's tail, if one happens to have a tail.
He grins at the specials board.
"You got a favorite, out of those? One you'd recommend?"
"What is that?" he asks. "I don't think we have it back home--or at least, not that I've heard. I'm usually a beer or soda man, myself, but what's the point of living if you never try new things?"
"It's weird, seeing the foods and drinks from all kinds of other worlds," he says. "It's like the Disney world-of-food thing, only you don't need to wait in lines and deal with the whole evil-empire business."
"They should do that here sometime--festival of weird alien foods, you know? Though some people might get offended by calling it that, so you'd need to make it politically correct, or something. But that's the general idea."
He grins at the specials board.
"You got a favorite, out of those? One you'd recommend?"
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Hey, he'd seen plenty of reruns as a kid back in the '80s. He considers for a moment exactly what the implications of it might be.
"Do people usually put stuff in it, like milk or sugar? I'll try it, whatever way people usually drink it."
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:D?
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"Exactly like that."
:D
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"They should do that here sometime--festival of weird alien foods, you know? Though some people might get offended by calling it that, so you'd need to make it politically correct, or something. But that's the general idea."
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"Something like that."
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